Baker Baker
by Flag
Summary: A short random story about Steve and a plate of cookies.


1A/N: No idea where this came from, lol. The ending isn't really satisfactory, but I couldn't come up with anything.

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Steve Randle walked into the kitchen, fuming. He was so angry he could scream loud enough they'd hear him in Kentucky. Heck, he was mad. Seeing the plate of cookies on the table did nothing to improve his temper; they were sitting on the table, looking out of place; a heaping plate of cookies covered in plastic-wrap that wasn't even wrinkled. Everything else was dingy, but the cookies? Oh no, the cookies could be in a Soc's kitchen and not look out of place! But the Curtis's house? Heck, by all rights they shouldn't even be there! It was the weekend, seven hungry males were in the house, and the plate of cookies were undisturbed. No, they definately did not belong on the table.

Grabbing a mug and filling it with coffee, Steve thought he could smell the cookies. Sure smelt good. When Steve went to the refrigerator to get a bit of milk for his coffee he was sure he could smell them- freshly baked chocolate chip cookies. He wondered if anyone was going to eat them.

Pushing the thought from his mind, he left to join the rest of the 'gang' where they were in the livingroom.

"I wonder who brought them?" Ponyboy was asking as Steve took a spot on the sofa.

"Probably some girl, trying to impress me," Two-Bit said with an over-confident smile and a look of satisfaction in his eye. "Heck, they're always trying to get me. Just the other day, a certain Ms. Rose took off her-"

Shaking his head, Soda cut in. "If they're for you Two-Bit, why are they in our kitchen?"

Steve's head swivelled to each speaker during the conversation looking like a bizarre toy you would find in a car window. Apparently he was not the only one thinking of the cookies...

"Heck, Soda, they're probably for you- you've got girls falling over at your feet," Darry was saying, and Steve had to smile at that.

"Yeah Soda, just the other day-"

This time Steve was cut off with a look from Soda, who had threatened Steve within an inch of his life not to mention a certain mishap involving the lovesick teen and a certain overweight blonde.

"There was no note or anything?" Johnny asked quietly, but then again Johnny was always quiet.

"Nothing. Just a plate of cookies on the doorstep," Soda answered.

"Maybe you shouldn't eat them then Soda... You never know, someone might have put strychnine or something in them," Two-Bit said, and Steve felt the need to break in, lest Two-Bit continue conspiring.

"Going down to the corner, pick up a pack of smokes," he said, standing up. He couldn't bare to think of the cookies anymore! Maybe they would decide not to eat them, and he didn't think he could stand the sight of a big, heaping plate of cookies in the garbage. He might just lose his mind.

The trip, of course, was uneventful and Steve found himself pondering on the cookies again much sooner than he had hoped for.

"Did you even try one?"

Steve thought he recognized Two-Bits voice, but couldn't be sure. He was outside still, having decided to have a cigarette before he went inside. His mind clouded as his irrational anger came back to him. They were still talking about the cookies!

"No, thought they might be poisoned." Steve could almost here the smile in Ponyboy's voice and grimaced. So far, one person had not tried the cookes. Steve had to see for his own eyes that the conversation was going on and was not a figment of imagination. He was disturbed when he entered the kitchen to see that all the gang was assembled there and was looking at the now cookie-less table.

"Who ate them?" he asked, trying not to let his voice show how he felt about the lack of chocolate chip cookies.

The reaction was unanimous; no one ate the cookies. Soda shook his head, Dally made an odd grunting noise, Johnny quietly said 'no', Ponyboy made a disgusted face, Darry shook his head, and Two-Bit was the only one to make a comment.

"I tried one and they were disgusting."

Disgusting? Steve nearly gaged at the word. They were not disgusting! He knew, he could smell them! They smelt delicious, surely they were not disgusting and Two-Bit was exaggerating... Or maybe Two-Bit was serious. Maybe the cookies were too crispy, or maybe they were too chewy. Steve doubted they were too chocolatey, as Two-Bit seemed to really love chocolate, as did the Curtises. No, the cookies had looked and smelled delicious and Steve could not fathom why no one ate them.

"What are you going to do if a girl asks you how they were then?" Ponyboy asked innocently, but everyone in the room had to smile.

"Oh, I'll tell her how delicious they were, and how I really liked them."

Apparently the cookies had disappeared as suddenly as they had appeared.

Steve did not think that he could stand being in a house where a perfectly good tray of chocolate chip cookies was thrown in the garbage based on Two-Bits opinion, because although Steve was too afraid to look, he knew that he would find them in the garbage if he dared peek. He thought it best to vacate the house of the cookie trashers before he could do something stupid. Perhaps he would go and bake some more cookies, and eat them by himself where they would be appreciated and he would not have to listen to people making derogatory remarks towards his cookies. With a sigh, Steve walked out of the house again, not offering an explanation. He doubted his absence would be noticed much.

Steve was walking down the street, smoking a cigarette and blowing the smoke out with such vehemence that suggested it had been the one to throw away his cookies when he heard someone coming up behind him.

"Dally," Steve said, dipping his head in acknowledgment and slowing his stride.

"Steve," Dally said when he had caught up. Steve thought that there was something strange about the way Dally was acting but it took a moment for him to put his finger on it.

"Dally... Why are you walking with your hand on your stomach? Hungry?"

"Naw, just thinking about getting some more of those delicious cookies I just ate... Any chance of getting some more?"

More cookies? Why would Dally want more cookies? He ate them? But when asked, he... did nothing but grunt. No yes or no. Just a grunt.

"You ate them?"

"Yeah, and you cooked them, didn't you?"

Steve's anger from earlier returned to him in tenfold as he remembered the true reason for his original anger. Oh yes, it had been tampered with by the lack of people eating his delicious cookies that he had so graciously provided to the gang to enjoy, but that had not been the initial cause.

"Won't be baking anymore for a while there, damn stove broke this morning and I don't know what's wrong with it."

Dally stopped walking and Steve blushed, thinking that Dally had just tricked him into admitting that he baked cookies and had not eaten them at all. Steve's secret embarrassment exposed...

"'Salright," Dally said, picking up the pace again. "I happen to know a few things about ovens myself. Maybe I can fix it in exchange for a dozen of your cookies."

Right then and there, Steve vowed that if Dally could fix his oven, he would never ask where he had learnt to do it.


End file.
